


it's just business, sweetheart

by Hooda



Series: 555 word fics [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, One Shot, Smuggler Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:41:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23782531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hooda/pseuds/Hooda
Summary: “I like the holster,” he would murmur into the shell of her ear, hot breath setting her face aflame in dimly lit cantinas. He would press close and let errant fingertips trace the leather of her holster, his touch careful around her thigh.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: 555 word fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1713307
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	it's just business, sweetheart

**Author's Note:**

> my [twitter](https://twitter.com/HoodaWrites)

The more Rey travelled to new planets, the less she liked bars. Especially the “hole-in-the-wall” kind of places Ben and Han insisted served the best spirits.

But she follows them. And why shouldn’t she? The two men had a penchant for almost always knocking elbows with some of sleaziest beings in the known galaxy.

No matter how many times Ben attempts to reassure her he and Han can handle themselves if the dealings got tense, Rey still follows closely behind them. Much like Han, Ben learns to keep his mouth shut when Rey stows her lightsaber away and straps a blaster to her thigh.

Chewie almost never minds to be left behind on the ship with R2, so long as they bring him back a bottle or two of something he asks for from the bar, he lets them go. The Falcon gave them more problems than it did successful light speed jumps.

If anyone could manage the never-ending list of repairs while they went out to deal with Han’s _business_ , it was Chewie.

The more _business_ runs they make in questionable bars on backwater planets, the more Rey begins to wonder what Han’s secret was to outliving every old mistake that came back to bite him in his ass.

First it was Kanji Club ambushing them as they were about to depart a trading post on Dantooine.

Then it was the two Hutt mercenaries looking to shake them down for their credits and valuables.

Merely two weeks earlier had been a scuffle in a bar with an old Sabaac adversary who still felt cheated from a game that had ended years before Ben was even _born_.

Han’s list of friends was shorter the more he expanded his _business_.

It was no wonder Leia picked her nails so often.

Ben would call home on the holocam to reassure her that yes, everyone was safe, and yes, Han was piloting, not dead.

The more they ventured out with Han, the more the old man joked how he never realized his smuggling had turned into a family business, gloating as if he were the proud owner of a restaurant being passed down to the next generation.

Rey finds she did not mind it as much anymore. Months of sitting copilot for Chewie and staring out at the stars they passed almost made up for the spikes in anxiety she felt whenever Han disappeared into a bar.

Ben would follow his old man to the ends of the galaxy. Chewie was content to pilot them, much as he did when Han himself was a younger man.

And Rey, well, she was just happy to follow Ben anywhere throughout the galaxy.

She followed him into questionable bars or into plazas swamped with the smell of greasy foods. It was almost impossible to lose sight of his broad shoulders moving through a crowd. No one could ignore his boisterous laugh, the one Rey loved so much she wanted to press her ear to his chest and listen to it.

“I like the holster,” he would murmur into the shell of her ear, hot breath setting her face aflame in dimly lit cantinas. He would press close and let errant fingertips trace the leather of her holster, his touch careful on her thigh.

She smiles at him and takes a drink.

**Author's Note:**

> my [twitter](https://twitter.com/HoodaWrites)


End file.
